


lockstep in blood

by wishfulclicking



Category: Vicious - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mild Painplay, Mind Games, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5465774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishfulclicking/pseuds/wishfulclicking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eli greets him with a smile and all Victor wants is a gun in his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lockstep in blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nitpickyabouttrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitpickyabouttrains/gifts).



> thanks to T for the beta. There is handwave science involved in this story. Violence (of the level of the canon) and sexual actions woven together.

Eli greets him with a smile and all Victor wants is a gun in his hand.

Dreams of this scenario come to him in a multitude of unwanted variations: Eli returned, full of righteous urgency to eradicate abominations; Eli, resting against a wall with a contented smile before pulling a knife on Victor; Eli, in prison, tortured but never free. The dreams had been frequent when he’d first crawled out of his grave with Sydney and Mitch’s assistance. With time, the dreams had tapered off as he became more consumed with his new life. Only, they had returned with the simple action of Mitch showing up at his door two weeks ago to slide a copy of an article mentioning the death of Eli Ever, a man who had been arrested three years ago for murdering two people. 

The suggestion of such an impossible thing brought the dreams back, this time with Eli killing him, covered in blood that belonged to both of them with a grim look on his face; Eli, hunting down Sydney solely to bring back Victor so he could do it all again. 

Victor surmised his earlier dreams were the result of stress; despite his abilities, Victor knew he was still anchored by humanity in certain ways, and would exhibit natural physical responses to stimuli. 

“I come in peace,” Eli says, hands limply waving in the air, paired with a tilting grin lurking at the corner of his lips. He pauses mid-step, movement cloaked in hesitance, and Victor immediately wonders if this is a trick being pulled by an EO with shapeshifting abilities because Eli had never moved without certainty in his life. Victor was sure of this.

“I’ve already killed you once,” Eli says as he sits across from Victor. “And I’ll give you an A for effort for attempting to kill me multiple times. Let’s skip all that and you can tell your friends you tried your hardest to fight and we can have a civil conversation.”

“Now you want conversation instead of rushing to hypocritical judgment?” Victor says. Eli had made a show of putting up his hands, sliding his hands over his chest as if to show he was unarmed and harmless; but Victor knows Eli was never harmless; that he didn’t need a weapon to hurt anyone. Still, something about Eli is off. Instead of his steady facade holding strong, glimpses of frailty show through when Eli wasn’t acknowledging Victor; moments where he pulls in on himself and holds back a tremor. Victor was not unused to Eli shutting others out, but this was a first of him witnessing such public vulnerability that doesn’t seem like an intended play at sympathy. 

“Your operation isn’t as hidden as you think it is.” Eli says this while toying with the condiments on the table, opening the sugar and the salt, making designs with his long fingers that hold a deceptive illusion of youth. 

Eli doesn’t say anything else for a stretched out moment, seeming content to fiddle with condiments and let Victor look at him. He looks a near copy of the Eli from his memories but something at the corners of his eyes and the way he holds himself in the chair suggests that time, or maybe it was his experiences in the prison, had found a way to mark him in a more subtle manner. Victor logically knew there could be no indication of aging--Eli’s ability was healing after all, complete restoration for the believer--but the person in front of him doesn’t match the Eli emblazoned in his memory. The person sitting across from him seemed like a distorted copy of the original. 

“There’s a chip inserted in my brain affecting my behavior, making me follow suggestions from a designated person.” This admission seems to pull something with weight from Eli. Victor can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it. 

“Assuming I believe you and ignore how much this sounds like a poor comic book plot, can I guess that the designated person is a certain detective we’re with whom we’re both familiar?” Victor relishes the image of Stall with a switch keeping Eli on a short leash just for the reversal of fortune alone; he doesn’t dwell on what it would take and feel like for him to get his hands on such a leash. 

“Yes, a behavior modifying chip--which you know we covered in classes over a decade ago--sounds completely beyond belief, just like restorative healing and a girl raising people from the dead.”

Victor notes the reference to Sydney, allows himself to feel the thread of discomfort that had danced up his spine without showing it on his face. “Why would your current state entice me to help you? From where I stand this could only be better if I controlled the switch that put you down.”

Eli leans back in his chair, stance wide as if in offering. “You’ll help me because I can help you and your merry band of friends stay off this same leash. You’ll help me because you can’t help yourself.” He pushes his chair away from the table and winks at Victor. “I’ll be seeing you,” he says, pulling Victor into a tight, crushing hug. Victor could make this hurt less if he wanted, but he keeps the pressure Eli puts on him, amplifies it and sends it back. He meets Eli sharp grin with one of his own.

On the table, strewn among the condiment detritus Eli has left in his wake, is a message scrawled out in a spray of salt: _below._

\--

“You’re fucking insane,” Dominic says, breaking the uncomfortable silence that has fallen over the room after Victor described his encounter with Eli.

“Not helpful, and also incorrect,” replies Victor. 

“That’s still up to question,” Mitch says from his spot in the corner.

“He says he’s not planning any harm to any of us and is being controlled but you don’t know that,” Dominic says. “Let’s say the secret EO tracking agency is real. Maybe this is all just a long con to get you separated or to get all of us under their thumb? He could be fucking running the task team himself to bring you in! Do you have any idea what the government is willing to do for its goals?” 

Victor crosses his arms. “I’ve already spent time alone with Eli; he’s had multiple opportunities to, as you say, take me out. Besides, there’s no way Stall would let Eli have any control over him after what he did. I remember him from before, he liked being the one calling the shots.”

“Extended time alone with the guy who actually killed you. Of course.” Mitch is still staring intently at his laptop screen, hands moving in a blur, indicating this conversation isn’t worth his full attention; or perhaps he’s more accustomed to the futility of actually trying to stop Victor from doing something and is waiting until he can exert his will wherever he can. “The EO operation could be possible. They have more resources than we do, even if part of Stall’s work was halted while under,” he cuts himself off, briefly glancing at Sydney who still hasn’t spoken since Victor laid out most of what Eli had told him. 

“Under Serena’s power,” Victor adds because there is no time for this.

“Right,” continues Mitch, “but you have to imagine they had some beginning of an idea about EOs if they were responding to any 911 call with the mention of them. That implies a level of infrastructure.”

“So we all agree Victor should kill him and be done with this, right?” Dominic says. “If they can permanently injure him then he can at least be neutralized.” 

“We need to know more,” says Victor.

“So what are you going to do?” asks Sydney. “Are you sure your power can do what he thinks it can?” She gives him a searching look and Victor sometimes wonders if secondary powers are a reality undiscovered. “If you can help him, why would you even want to?”

“We need to know more” he says because it’s true but also because he can’t say that he needs more time; that he doesn’t actually know what he wants to do. Saving Eli sounds simplistic to what is being asked of him; can it even work? Did he even want it to work? What happened if it did?

“So back to nothing then,” adds Mitch. He moves his laptop away from him and looks up to Victor. “I agree with Victor, we need to know more. From my initial search I’ve found some unique missing cases of people who could possibly have abilities--all recent within the last six months. That fits the timeline Eli gave, corresponds with the article noting his death.” 

“Where are you meeting him?” Sydney asks.

“The cafe he found me at has a bar underneath it. He indicated he wanted to meet there.”

“Not many exits,” adds Dominic.

Syndey has moved to stand behind Mitch to peer at his laptop since she’s asked about the location. Victor can appreciate how she doesn’t waste time on needless paths the way Dominic does. Not finding out more about Eli was never actually an option. She meets his gaze with an unflinching stare that suggests expected agreement. “You’ll be careful, and try not to make me use my abilities on you.”

“So that’s it?” Dominic says.

“Yes,” Sydney replies, cutting off Victor. “We do need to know more about any agency that could be tracking us. Victor can find out something tangible we can check from Eli.” She briefly looks at Victor to see him nod. “Dominic, you and Mitch will be nearby, but not too close in case Victor needs to make a quick exit.”

“Where will you be Sydney?” Dominic asks.

“Dol has a vet appointment. We could be leaving this town soon and I want to get him checked out before that happens.”

\--

Bars weren’t going to be anything he would grow into liking. The crowd is obnoxious, the performers need to not quit their day jobs, and the alcohol can’t make up for his grievances. He had arrived at a time that would allow him to enter without much notice, but also close enough to closing time for him to leave in case Eli didn’t show up. For close to an hour, Victor had sat nursing a beer, meeting the bartender’s annoyed glance, and sending jolts of pain to anyone who got too close. Eli strolls down the steps and moves toward him with a grace that takes Victor back to university.

“Victor, I knew you’d come.” Eli smiles at him, all practiced charm.

“I’m predictable like that,” Victor says. He leans in toward Eli, though part of him wants to keep his distance and take everything in, try to keep whatever advantage he can.

“Come with me out back,” he says, moving without looking back to confirm that Victor will follow.

It’s easier to follow Eli than Victor likes. He pushes bits of pain to a guy to make him stumble in Eli’s path and keeps a flat face when Eli looks back at him with an exasperated glare. 

“You’ve been here before,” states Victor once they’re in a more secluded area; behind them is the bar crowd and behind El is a door.

“The exit,” Eli says, “in case a quick getaway is needed.” 

“Are you being followed?”

“Why would they follow me when they have me on a leash?” Eli grabs Victor’s hand in a strong grip and pulls it to his neck. 

Victor snatches his hand back. “Who says I’m going to help you?”

Eli rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t going to do it.” 

“Why the rush if there’s no one coming?”

“There is no one coming tonight, but the sooner this is out the sooner I can help you.” Eli’s eyes gain a wildness that provides Victor with perverse comfort.

“Tell me more: how am I supposed to help you? I never quite made it to medical school, you know, with prison and all.”

Eli frowns. “The chip is at the base of my neck. As long as it’s there, giving me a constant injury, it only allows me to behave within a certain framework set by the designated person.”

“Like a knife stuck in your stomach preventing you from healing.” Victor allows a brief smile to rest on his face from the memory, and he smiles even wider when he sees Eli’s disgusted expression.

“Yes, as long as the chip is in I can only perform certain actions that don’t go against the orders; any attempt to break that command makes me weaker, almost like bleeding out on a chair.” Eli takes Victor’s hand and places it at the base of his neck. “An organism is an organism and I know you did well in your anatomy courses. The chip is here,” he presses Victor’s hand down, “you can make the cut, and take it out.”

“Take away any pain you can feel?” asks Victor before he removes his hand. 

“No, the opposite, I need you to make me feel all of it, there’s a switch where the chip overrides itself if I’m in an overwhelming amount of danger or pain. A failsafe of sort if the wrong kind of person got their hands on me.” His eyes rake over Victor’s body. “Know enough now?”

“What’s your plan if I do this?”

“Go back to my keepers and take care of some loose ends.”

A sound from above them indicates someone entering the hallway, and before Victor can fully react, Eli grabs him, pulls him into the corner, and forces a kiss full of teeth on him. Victor swallows a bit of blood--his or Eli’s--and allows Eli to push him against the wall, bodies still pressed together as the person--a man--mumbles out an apology for the interruption. Once they’re alone, Eli pulls back, hand still gathered at Victor’s collar, until Victor pulses a wave of pain along his bottom lip before he completely heals. The only sound amplified in Victor’s ears is the harsh breathing coming from Eli.

“Then what?” asks Victor.

Eli tilts his head, and smiles at Victor. “Oh, Victor, has your heart grown and now you worry about others? No worries. I give my word not to come after you and your friends.” He puts enough stress on the last word to let Victor know what he thinks of that. 

“That’s the start of it. Also, what do you do with the EOs you take care of?”

“Stall and his small team--there’s four under him, that’s all he could get because no one is sure how many EOs they can find-- take them into custody, and ship them to the base on the coast.” Eli moves to partially block the exit. “Planning a breakout? We’re taking one into custody the town over. You already knew that though, didn’t you?”

Mitch had plotted out nearby EOs a week ago and they had contacted one who was still safe, if the call Sydney had placed last night meant anything.

“I can’t give any more assurance than this. It has to be after tomorrow because our operation moves out and I won’t have the ability to seek you out without drawing their attention.” Eli pauses. “In two nights we’ll meet at the motel at the edge of town. Room 125--it’s a corner room and the motel is a pay by the hour sort. No one is going to remember us if anyone comes looking. I’ll bring the supplies.”

Victor hasn’t said yes but he knows it’s pointless to bring that up. Eli was right, if he wasn’t going to do it he never would have shown up. Now, he needed to decide what came next. He has to physically touch Eli to move him out of the way to reach the exit. The night air chills him so that his coat that felt extraneous in the bar feels barely adequate for what he’s now facing. He walks up the steps out of the alleyway and chews on what he’s learned. He passes the van that Mitch and Dominic have hidden themselves in, ignores the buzzing of his phone, and walks on until he reaches a freshly emptied bench after he blows a fissure of pain at the woman previously sitting there. 

Everything Eli had said made sense: there was technology years ago that modified behavior, it could only be better now. An EO had gone missing after Eli’s appearance, and Mitch had discovered a shutdown federal building that was suspiciously on the transport route of a supply chain that was buried under multitudes of shell accounts. It was a beast to track unless you knew what you were looking for and Mitch had, which is why Victor likes keeping him around. 

There was also the issue of Eli’s aid to them; from Mitch’s search they had found instances where any time the trail should have intersected with Dominic, himself, or Sydney the path suddenly altered. Stall’s group had been in function only eight months,government bureaucracy being what it was, and according to communication sent from Stall’s department, they were getting a lot of pushback on any requests. They were short staffed and allowed Eli a lot of free reign; Victor could see it now--Eli, pacified and in full on charm mode after his procedure, luring them into complacency while he plotted a way out; helping Victor stay out of sight only to use him. How long could that deception last? Not for long, Victor knew Eli wasn’t one for long term stealth--it was all stun and charm with him. 

Research on the technology behind the chip and any information they can get on Stall’s new team consumes the next day. Dominic is restless and useless; Mitch presents any information he can find while giving Victor puzzled looks; and Sydney stands back, plays with Dol, and watches all of them.

\---

Purposefully nondescript is how Eli had described the motel; Mitch just calls it shitty as Dominic pleads again for them to kill Eli or run away. Victor picks up the key from the receptionist who doesn’t look up from her phone and wonders what he looks like: a thirty something man going to meet someone who looks just out of college in a pay by the hour room in the middle of the day. Mitch sets himself up in the room next to Eli; and Dominic and Sydney are a block away looking for any suspicious activity. Victor had pulled Mitch aside that morning and told him if anything went wrong to pull Sydney out of there and get as far away as possible.

Eli opens the door before Victor can use his key. Soft music plays in the background, two chairs situated at a table with an array of blades and a stylus on it rests on top of a cut open trash bag. Besides the bright desk light on the table, the rest of the room only uses the slant of light from the poorly shut blinds and the faded yellow seeping beneath the shut bathroom door. Eli is fully clothed but once he has Victor’s attention he begins to strip--removing his shirt first, tossing it on the floor next to the bed. He catches Victor’s gaze once and smirks, then he sits on the bed to toe off his shoes.

“You couldn’t do this before I got here?” asks Victor.

“Would you really want me to?” Eli says as he stretches before he slides out of his pants. He’s unabashed with his state of undress, and, besides for the scars on his back, he looks perfect. “It’s more than just a simple cut and grab, you need to provide an overwhelming stimulus, pain--” he looks up at Victor--”or pleasure, alternate both maybe. Or just waves of varying levels of pain to disengage the chip.”

It’s easier than Victor likes for him to pull Eli from the bed and shove him against the wall. There’s no gentleness when presses his knee between Eli’s legs and feels the rise of his erection in response to him sending a surge of pain through his back. Eli doesn’t resist, as if he’s expected this, as if it’s all a part of the plan, and maybe it is. Victor has his own plans. It’s too easy to slide his fingers into Eli’s mouth before he takes the same hand to stroke his half hard penis as he sends an increasing crescendo of pain that loops into the motion he makes with his wrist as he pulls Eli closer to an edge. Victor thinks he can hear pieces of prayer coming from Eli muffled against his shoulder, and it’s just as Eli gives a final tremor that Victor pulls the blade he had brought hidden in his belt and plunges it into Eli’s neck.

Victor’s fast as he overloads Eli with pain while he preps the blade and the stylus to do his work. Eli is healing himself but it’s not fast enough to keep up with the steady injury Victor’s applying; he forces another assault on Eli and feels him twitch in his lap, his erection long soft and staining both their thighs. Sloppier than he like because he knows Eli will mend himself correctly, Victor applies the charge, changes the frequency when Eli rouses himself enough to be aware that Victor is doing something but is also powerless to stop it. 

He steps away as Eli makes a slow grab at him. “What did you do?” he slurs, propping himself against the table as he struggles to gain purchase on the plastic bag strewn across the floor. 

“Don’t worry, I did what you wanted, the chip is neutralized. It’s going to take an hour for the poison I coated on my blade to work through your system.” He watches as Eli begins to gather himself, arms shaking as he starts to dry heave. “Besides those effects, something else special just for you--” he waits to make sure he has Eli’s full attention before he gives him a dry smile--”I’ve overriden the frequency, yes, but I think I liked you a little too much this way. The chip is neutralized to your former handlers, but it’s not completely neutralized to me.” He sees when Eli finally gets it. “It’s hasty but effective and you won’t be coming after Dominic, Mitch, or Sydney. You won’t even talk to Sydney.”

“You haven’t mentioned yourself.” He spits out a glob of blood on the floor.

Victor wipes off the stain from his thigh and his blade with the blanket. “Have fun with those loose ends, Eli. I’ll be seeing you.”


End file.
